


Inadvertent

by aintitnifty



Category: Thor (Comics), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-03
Updated: 2012-11-03
Packaged: 2017-11-17 15:21:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/553030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aintitnifty/pseuds/aintitnifty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a time—ages ago, in their childhood—when Thor had been the jealous brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inadvertent

There was a time—ages ago, in their childhood—when Thor had been the jealous brother.

Loki was the younger child. He was not the “heir,” which had been a meaningless title when the brothers were young, as they had not believed it was something over which they should fight.

To Thor, being the “heir” simply meant that he had to be perfect. He had to have perfect etiquette, he had to be perfect in combat, he had to look perfect at court. While Thor had to study and train, Loki was allowed to read and play. While Thor was expected to master theories of politics and war, Loki was allowed to dabble in sorcery. When their more mischievous exploits got them both into trouble, Thor was the one blamed, because he was the elder and was expected to know better.

He was the “heir.”

Thor still loved his little brother, of course. He loved it when Loki learned how to walk and began toddling after Thor everywhere he went, determined not to be left behind by his big brother. He loved it when Loki would listen and nod along, green eyes wide and bright with sympathy, as Thor complained about his lessons and the silly outfits Frigga made him wear to banquet. Thor loved having a partner in mischief, he loved having someone to talk to when the lights went out, or when nightmares woke him in the night and he was too afraid to bother his parents.

But as Thor’s lessons became more taxing and he found himself with less and less time for play, he started to notice things. Like how Loki’s lessons seemed infinitely easier than Thor’s, and how Loki never had to miss dinner in order to get a certain sword thrust just right, and how Loki could get away with making a mess of his room because the accidents were usually caused by magic, which was, according to Frigga, his “little talent,” whereas Thor would be scolded for being sloppy and un-princely if he—Nine forbid—left his armor in a pile in his bedroom.

And Odin was always— _always_ —telling Thor that he had to look out for his little brother, because Loki was the younger son, and it was Thor’s responsibility both as a prince and as a brother to keep his sibling safe.

Because Thor was the “heir,” while Loki was allowed to be simply a child.

*

It was a dark winter evening when Thor’s childish jealousy came to a head. He and Loki were walking along the river, passing the hours before bedtime. Frigga had—of course—told Thor to watch out for his brother, because the path was icy and Loki could slip.

“Hurry up,” Thor grumbled; Loki had fallen behind to peer into the river. “I want to get home before it gets too dark.”

“How cold do you think the water is?” Loki asked, trotting to catch up to his brother. “It’s not frozen yet.”

“Cold enough,” Thor said, shoving his hands into his pockets to stave off the chill. He had always hated cold weather, and the frosty air was doing nothing to help his mood. His afternoon had been spent learning the politics of the Nine Realms, and he was ready to be back in his bed.

Loki went quiet after a quick glance at his brother’s stormy expression, and Thor could only be glad. Not that he was mad at Loki, per se. He just didn’t think it was fair that he was always stuck looking after his little brother when he had better things to do.

Maybe if Thor could just show Odin and Frigga how silly it was for them to favor Loki—for them to make life so much easier for him, while insisting that Thor be perfect in everything—maybe then Thor would feel better. All he had to do was show his parents that Loki was no better than Thor, maybe even that he was worse, and then everything would be fine.

Thor glanced at his brother. Loki had drifted closer to the river, stepping from stone to stone gracefully in some sort of game, his eyes fixed on his feet.

It was so tempting, and it would be so easy. All Thor had to do was stick out one foot, just to trip Loki a little, to make him tumble, to make him fall and scrape his palms and whimper like the baby he was. Then Odin and Frigga would see that Thor was clearly the superior child, and that they should not always be telling him to watch out for Loki, because Loki was useless and little and did not deserve to be coddled.

Thor considered this for a few seconds, then casually bumped his arm against Loki’s hard enough to make the younger boy stumble. Loki gasped quietly as he slipped on the icy rocks lining the shore. His eyes widened and his mouth fell open, and then suddenly he was in the water.

Thor launched into action, his movements automatic, panic-stricken. He tumbled to his knees and reached out as far as he could, grasping Loki’s sodden collar and heaving before Loki’s head could disappear beneath the waves. The current was not overly strong, but Loki’s cloak was cumbersome, especially when soaked, and Thor—although strong for his age—struggled to heave his little brother from the icy water. The sodden folds of fabric slipped from his numb fingers for a second and Thor let out a panicked cry as Loki’s head ducked under the water, but Thor forced his icy fingers into a fist and tugged until he could get both hands on Loki’s cape, and finally succeeded in pulling Loki out of the water.

They both collapsed, shivering and panting, on the rocky shore. Thor wrapped his arms around Loki and squeezed hard enough to bruise. His hands were shaking from more than just cold, and he could not quite catch his breath. He had seen briefly what it would be like to lose his little brother.

The thought left him trembling.

Loki was crying, Thor could tell. Cold little fingers twisted into Thor’s cloak and hot breath puffed against his throat in quick, panicky bursts, and it was only then that Thor realized he was yelling.

“What were you thinking, walking so close to the water?” he demanded. “You could have been sucked under, you could have drowned, and then what would I have done?”

Thor continued ranting, if only to keep from crying (he had come so close to losing Loki, _so close_ to losing his grip, and what if he had not managed to snatch him up at all…), but Loki remained silent and shivering in his arms, his face buried in Thor’s shoulder. Thor rubbed his hands over Loki’s back and arms, trying to chafe some warmth back into his little brother’s slim frame.

“I’m sorry,” Loki said finally, interrupting Thor’s tirade. His voice was muffled against the damp material of Thor’s cloak. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Thor clamped his mouth shut and clasped Loki tighter to his chest. He knew they should move soon, knew they had to get out of their sodden clothes and into something warm and dry, but he was still hesitant to let Loki go.

One thought kept running through his mind, over and over as they lay on the ice: _I didn’t mean it, I didn’t mean it, I didn’t mean it._

*

They eventually made it back to the palace, soaked and shivering. Thor refused to let go of Loki, keeping one arm slung stubbornly across his little brother’s shoulders even as attendants hurried forth to strip the young princes of their wet clothes. When Odin asked what had happened, Thor told him a fraction of the truth: that Loki had slipped and fallen into the river, and Thor had fished him out. Thor kept waiting for Loki to tattle on him—to tell Odin and Frigga the truth, that Thor had deliberately bumped him, causing him to fall—but Loki said nothing, staying silent, clinging to Thor as desperately as Thor held onto him.

Guilt squirmed uncomfortably in Thor’s stomach as he began to realize that Loki did not suspect him of anything. Because how could Thor—his big brother, his friend, his protector—possibly think to do him harm?

Thor flushed under Odin’s praise, fidgeted under Frigga’s warm smile. Loki noticed his discomfort and squeezed his fingers, smiling a little. Thor squeezed back, but he could not meet his eyes.

Frigga ushered them into a bath to warm them up, then bundled them into blankets and sent them to bed. She let them both sleep in Thor’s big bed that night—something she had discouraged for a few years now—and when she closed the door, leaving them in darkness, Loki crawled right over to Thor and collapsed against his side, curling one arm around him. Thor blinked down at his brother, both surprised and pleased at this show of affection, but Loki’s eyes were already closed, his eyelashes damp and dark with tears, his lips parted in a little ‘o.’

Thor gathered Loki securely into his arms. Sometimes this was when he loved Loki best: when he was sleeping, innocent and pliant and very, very quiet. Thor buried his nose in Loki’s dark hair, still wet from the bath, and breathed in. Loki smelled fresh, clean, familiar.

Precious.

“Thank you,” Loki whispered, twining his fingers into Thor’s shirt. “For catching me.”

Thor said nothing, his throat constricting. Loki’s brow furrowed and he glanced up at his brother with sleepy eyes, confused by Thor’s silence.

“Thor?”

Thor closed his eyes and pressed a fierce kiss to Loki’s temple.

“I’m sorry,” Thor said. “I’m fine, I’m just . . . tired. Go to sleep, Loki.”

Loki smiled and squeezed closer to Thor’s side. Thor curled his fingers around Loki’s shoulder and pressed his other hand gently over Loki’s heart, counting the beats, willing it not to stop.

“I didn’t mean it,” he mouthed into the darkness, his thumb tracing circles into the soft fabric over Loki’s chest. “I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean it.”


End file.
